


Goodnight my King

by WinryMarellie



Category: Shaman King
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-03-01 07:10:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2764292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinryMarellie/pseuds/WinryMarellie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night before Yoh leaves for the Shaman Tournament, Anna spends the night beside him, sharing some final thoughts before the morning. (Recently inspired this for a submission, also posting it here.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Goodnight my King

My hand trembles next to yours. It is a familiar feeling to me at this point as I lay next to you, wanting to move closer but keeping myself at a distance. Tomorrow, you will be gone, off to fight a battle I fear you will lose, and I wonder quietly as to if this will be my last chance for such an opportunity. 

I've realized through you that I can learn to love someone. An arranged marriage decided our fate all those years ago and caused us to be together, because they saw me as strong. I was a perfect candidate to marry into such a prized family name such as yours. I'm not strong, however, but everyone believes it and that's what made them choose me as your future bride. 

When we first met, I instantly knew you were a fool and I hated you. My demeanor was bitter and cruel, but it was my barrier that hid the vulnerability I had deep within me. I was scared, constantly walking on eggshells as I feared a slip of my emotion would ruin me and those around me. I was jealous of your carefree smile because I was unable to live your life of easiness, and that lead me to be tough on you. 

You called me cute, and it caused my heart to pound, even though my icy stare struck fear into yours. How I hated you, more than anyone I had ever met, and yet you made my cheeks warm when you said hello.

Looking at you now, I can see the moonlight reflecting off of the brown hair that drapes your face. It's too long, and its a distraction, and yet you refuse to accept my advice about getting a haircut. You want to grow it out long, and I tell you it will look stupid. My words never reach you however, for you always look back at me and tell me I should do the same. How growing my hair past my shoulders would suit me. I hate long hair, and yet since you have said those words I've found myself canceling my upcoming hair appointments. 

I long to touch your hair, stroke your long bangs, twist the strands between my fingers, but I don't. My hand trembles, longing for you, but I continue to hold it back. 

Like I said I am used to this. Every walk, trip, train ride, I keep my hands bound tight to my side. My hands stay clenched as I walk with purpose, trying to ignore my twitching fingers that want so badly to grab onto yours. I imagine sitting next to you as we watch TV, my fingers playing with yours as I run my fingers across your skin that has become calloused over the years. 

And yet I don't, because I can't let myself waver. I'm supposed to be strength, that's why your family chose me as your future bride. I'm cold, I'm cruel, and I don't fault. How can I let myself become emotionally vulnerable when they expect me to keep you in line and be your strength? 

I'm not your strength however, and I find it hilarious. If anything, you are mine. You saved me from the bitter hate I was being consumed by, and taught me how to love an idiot like yourself.

I joke about how you won't last a day out there, but behind every bitter word in the back of my mind I am cheering for you. In reality, I fear your death for I have come to a point in my life where I can't imagine you not being there. You have become my sun, my moon, my everything. 

If the red string of fate actually exists, I hope it is bound to my finger that trembles next to yours, growing shorter and shorter in hopes that it eventually pulls our hands together. An arrangement became love, and I'm happy for that. 

Despite the fact you are a fool I want you to be my king, and I wish so desperately to be your queen. Exalt me on an imaginary throne and make me the most important thing in your life. Consider me more valuable than all the crown jewels, because that's how I see you. 

When I stood at your door just hours ago, I asked to be next to you this last night. I wanted nothing of it but to be next to you for what might possibly be the last time.

I hope it's not the last time, because I want there to be more moments like this. Even if it is just my hand beside yours and not entwined, I'd be satisfied. The simplicity of this is enough, looking at you sleeping soundly next to me. 

I want to kiss your closed eyelids, smile against your skin and wish you luck on your future endeavors. I want to tell you to do your best and return home to me, but the best I can muster from behind the wall I have built up is just to tell you not to screw up this time. Please don't die. That's all I really want from you. Don't leave me alone as I have come to accept that soul mates do exist, and you are mine. No one in this universe could replace you, my love. 

Who would sit next to me and watch the new years celebration on TV, comparing our favorite musical guests as we critique each others interests? Who will cook me sub par meals that taste mediocre yet sweet because they were made with your caring hand? Who will walk with me in the winter, and buy me hot drinks to warm my cold hands? These moments are simple, but hold a special place in my heart and I fear they will become only bittersweet memories once the battle is done. 

And in my strength I reach for you, my fingers brushing your exposed palm. It is calloused from years of hard work, but its warm like your heart always has been towards me. I take your hand in mine, looking at your sleeping face, feeling your breath hit my hand in slow gusts of air. A smile crosses my face as you look so peaceful in sleep. 

Your hand tightens around mine, and I feel my heart stir. I keep smiling and I close my eyes thinking, "I love you," but too afraid to say the words aloud. I want to believe you are saying the same words in your mind, but even in silence I want you to know how I'm feeling. 

Good luck and be brave, my dear. You are my strength and the reason I keep moving forward in this world. Come back to me, my king, and smile you same stupid smile that you always do. 

I squeeze your hand softly, wanting to never let go. "Goodnight." I whisper, and you reply just the same.


End file.
